Two Tamas in Paradise; Episode 39, Plans for Oeno

This is the thirty-ninth episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. There are fifty episodes. This is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series.  

It may now be purchased on Amazon. It is available in paperback or Kindle digital format. 

Plans for Oeno

After Maxwell left, all that remained was the creaking and cracking of The Tramp Islander. The faint sound of the wind passing over the sails sounded like a slow, distant drum beat. 

Trace switched on the shortwave and listened to the weather report. A good day rested over the horizon, along with the island of their destination. His shoulders slumped, and his face relaxed.

‘I will wonder about them at times,” Trace thought. ‘You never have passengers for a great length of time such as them. Whatever their endeavor, I hope no one is harmed. This seems unlikely; a leopard cannot change its spots. I suppose the truth is, they will run amok with the law and investors. They will be charged heavy fines and disappear. And reinvent themselves, and a new scheme.’

“May I come up?” a voice said. It was Maxwell. “There is no way I can sleep.”

“Sure,” Trace said, “you shouldn’t have had the coffee.”

“It’s not that,” Maxwell said. He returned to the chair at the chart desk. “Do you know what we’re up to?”

“You mean declaring independence from Great Britain. Selling ambassadorships, setting up offshore banking accounts, and a few things in the brewing process, only,” Trace said.

“Wow,” Maxwell said, “that’s impressive. You have it pretty well figured out.”

“Frankly,” Trace said, “I think you’ll lose against The Crown. But I’m sure you’ll put up a good fight. And there will be folks willing to pay for a good fight.”

Maxwell grinned broadly. “That is indeed a piece of the plan. You see, Trace, we contracted a company to build permanent housing on Oeno. We will establish our homes there. Stir up some controversy and write a document that starts with, ‘During the course of human event…’ Sound familiar?”

“The Declaration of Independence,” Trace said.

“You paid attention in history class,” Maxwell said, “congratulations to you and to your teacher for holding your attention.”

“It all sounds fanciful to me,” Trace said.

“Indeed,” Maxwell said, “it does sound fanciful—you’re not a sucker. There are people, successful and smart people, lined up, and all in on this. One thing my dad taught me was how to sell a dream. My dad sold junk cars up front, and mineral rights, and land leases for oil drilling out back. He sold paper with promises, worth less than the ink and paper they were written on.”

“Maxwell,” Trace said, “when we unpack you and your cargo, that’s the end of it for us. Our job is done. I can’t say I wish you and those with you all the best. I just wish you no ill will.”

“Trace,” Maxwell said sternly, “I can’t go through with it. I can’t.”

Trace cocked his head and stared at Maxwell as if trying to see into his brain.

“You heard me right,” Maxwell said. “And tomorrow morning, I’m telling Calvin, Wilma, and Darlene.”

“What are you going to do when we get to Oeno?” Trace asked.

“I’m going to live there for a while,” Maxwell said. “I’m going to sort things out. I hope the others will do the same, but I can’t go on. I don’t want to end up on my deathbed wishing my son to be a crook.”

“I’m very curious,” Trace said. “How did this all come about. You mentioned some things that impacted you. Things that made you stop and think. But something happened that had to change your mind. Something had to place things in order for you. I can’t see playing a few games and getting sprung from jail, doing all that. From my observation, you’re all in. Not to be demeaning, but when I see you, I see a crook, a scammer, a con man right to the bone. You will always look for the quick buck, the mark, the sucker. In some ways, it almost seems like you’re setting me up for something.”

“I admire your candor, Trace,” Maxwell said. “It’s refreshing. You’re right, it didn’t take a few games and a jail breakout. Those things contributed, but your dad and I have had a few conversations. Up here, in the pilothouse.”

“What did he say?” Trace said.

“He just talked,” Maxwell said. “He was a man free from guilt, anxiety, regrets. Not that he hasn’t had them, but he talks about them as if they are a small part of the bigger picture. I’m always hiding the real me. Your dad puts it out there. His mistakes in life are honest ones. You pick yourself up, dust yourself off, have a laugh with your friends, and get back to work. He had good people around him, like his dad, Coyote, and a bunch of ranch hands that all have names like Rusty, Dusty, Chicken Legs, Lefty, and Paco.”

“Well,” Trace grinned, “if you know those names, you know my dad. You know the stories. And those were the men that Dad left in charge of me from time to time. I learned from those men, too.”

“There’s something behind them,” Maxwell said. “Not an outright moral message or some philosophy etched in stone. It’s just a way of walking. It’s like listening to a song in another language. You know the message, not from the words, but from the melody. You read the heart of the composer, the musician, the singer. Am I making sense?”

“Perfect,” Trace said.

“But can I convince the others?” Maxwell said. “What I mean is that I conned them into this whole scheme. I needed Calvin. He’s a numbers guy, a bean counter. And the two women. I love my wife, but she’s an ex-show girl and casino hostess; nothing upstairs. She’s innocent—and gullible. She likes shiny things and big promises. And Darlene is cut from the same cloth.”

Trace looked into Maxwell’s eyes. He leaned forward slightly.“Maybe, just maybe, what your wife really wants is just you. Maybe she sees things in you that you’ve never seen until now.”

“You know what,” Maxwell said, “this is crazy, but I’ve never seen her so happy before this trip. I thought it was just thinking about how good we will have it in a couple of years. Maybe it’s how she feels right now.”

“And you may be surprised at Calving and Wilma,” Trace said. “They may want the same things you want and in the same way—with a good conscience.”

“We have a big day ahead of us,” Trace said. “I’m going to wake Sage up and have him take over. I want to get a couple of hours of sleep.”

“You haven’t touched that wheel all the time I’ve been up here,” Maxwell said. “Why don’t you get your forty winks. I can read a compass. If it strays too much, I’ll wake you. And if I see something in our way, I’ll wake you. What do you say?”

“Have a seat,” Trace said, standing. “But the minute you feel drowsy, let me know.”

Trace lay on the bench, and Maxwell sat in the captain’s chair. 

Before closing his eyes, Trace thought, ‘God, I hope no one sees this.’

Two Tamas in Paradise; Episode 38, Maxwell's Awakening

This is the thirty-eighth episode of the novel TwoTamas in Paradise. There are fifty episodes. This is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series.  It may now be purchased on Amazon. It is available in paperback or Kindle digital format. 

Maxwell's Awakening

Shortly after 2:30 AM, Trace checked the instrument panel for a reading. He swirled around in his chair and looked at the chart on the chart desk. As he swiveled back to the wheel, he caught sight of Maxwell.

“Can I come up?” Maxwell said.

“Not without a coffee,” Trace said. “There’s a pot in the galley. Pour us a cup and grab a scone.”

Maxwell slowly backed down the companionway. He returned with coffee and a plate with two scones.

“Blueberry,” Maxwell said, “my favorite.” He sat in the chair at the chart desk.

“Me too,” Trace said.

They began eating and sipping the coffee.

“Something keeping you awake?” Trace asked.

“Plenty,” Maxwell replied.

“Let’s talk,” Trace said.

“Are you sure?” Maxwell said.

“Sure,” Trace said, “why wouldn’t I?”

“You don’t think much of me, do you?” Maxwell said.

Trace widened his eyes and breathed deeply. “You are direct.”

“That’s the type of guy you respect, right?” Maxwell said.

“Yeah,” Trace said. “I do.” He pressed his lips. “You’re a passenger, that’s it. But that doesn’t mean I’m without opinion. Before we left port at Suva, I read an article about you. It portrayed you as a schemer and a con man. You distance yourself from that type of person. It’s like a spider’s web, you get tangled and trapped.”

“I don’t know what article you saw,” Maxwell said, “but I scheme and I con; I’ll not deny it.”

“Well then,” Trace said you’re an honest crook.”

Maxwell chuckled. “Some things have happened to me on this trip. I can’t explain it.”

“I’ve seen changes,” Trace grinned. “I’m even starting to like you.”

“And that’s without notice and appreciated,” Maxwell said. “You see, all my life, I always had the feeling people didn’t like me. It was easy for me to take advantage of them. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Trace said, “I do.”

“But…” Maxwell said.

“That’s right, but,” Trace said. “It’s still not right.”

“I know that now,” Maxwell said, “and I knew it then. I got good at it and it gave me a rush.”

“Stollen fruit tastes the best,” Trace added.

“Those games we’ve been playing,” Maxwell said, “any other time I’d have cheated to win. I couldn’t. You guys aren’t chumps. But I won some fair and square.”

“Why did you all of a sudden go straight on us?” Trace asked.

“What you and the crew did back at Raro,” Maxwell said. “You didn’t have to do. That went a long way.”

“You guys were innocent,” Trace said. “You were being framed.”

“But I had it coming,” Maxwell said. 

“I don’t know that,” Trace said. “You were innocent of that, maybe not the other things. I can’t judge those other things. All I knew is that you were innocent of that. And that’s how the crew felt, too.”

“You see, that’s hard for me to grasp,” Maxwell said. 

“What exactly?” Trace asked. 

“Why would you help me?” Maxwell said. “What does it mean to you? There’s no cut for you—nothing in it.”

“Why do we help an old lady across the street or carry groceries to the car for somebody?” Trace said. “Why do you hold the door open for a lady? Why do you help someone up who has fallen? Unfortunate events happen. And folks can’t get out of them without the help of friends, neighbors, relatives—and sometimes strangers.”

“Were you in the Boy Scouts or something?” Maxwell asked.

“No,” Trace said. “Those are things my dad taught me, and Coyote taught Sage, and their fathers taught them.”

“My ole man owned a used car lot,” Maxwell said. “He was slick. 

“How long did he do that?” Trace said.

“Till the day he died,” Maxwell said. “We moved a lot; one side of the state to the other. Keeping ahead of lawyers, prosecutors, and dissatisfied customers. He sent me to college, ya know.”

“That’s commendable,” Trace said.

“Forged grades, loan applications, you know, the usual stuff,” Maxwell said. “By the time they had it all figured out, I had my degree.”

“What in?” Trace said.

“The world’s second oldest profession, the law,” Maxwell said. “My first client was my dad. Got him off. And he stiffed me for my fee.”

Trace chuckled.

“He said I owed him for paying my way through college,” Maxwell said. “I was at his bedside just before he passed. He made me promise. ‘Son, please promise me you’ll never go straight.’ He winked and smiled, and gave a friendly slap on the face. I left the hospital, and by the time I got back to my motel, they called and told me he passed. You’re lucky to still have your dad. He’s a good man, ya know. I’ve watched him.” Maxwell grinned. “And he’s been watching me. He’s got me pegged. Do you think he took my hair cream?”

“Not my dad,” Trace said. 

“No,” Maxwell said. I wouldn’t think so.”

“We own a ranch,” Trace said, “a big ranch. It takes a lot of hands to run it. Dad hires guys who are sometimes desperate. Some are in trouble with the law. Some are just plain in trouble. When they work for him, well, they work. He respects a man who works, and that respect is paid back. Dad can size a man up by just watching him walk into the room.”

“Me too,” Maxwell said. “I can spot a sucker.”

“Were we suckers for getting you out of jail?” Trace said.

“No,” Maxwell said. “And that’s what I’ve been getting around to saying. I never saw such unselfishness and genuineness—never.”

“I’m just glad we got you out of the jam,” Trace said.

“Is this where you say, now go do good to repay the good that has been done to you,” Maxwell said with feigned piety. 

“No,” Trace said, “I’ve never given that a thought. But, it is interesting that you are the one saying it, even though you are mocking it.”

“On that thoughtful note, I’m going back to my cabin,” Maxwell said, standing and taking a step toward the companionway.

“Sleep well,” Trace said.

Maxwell turned and stared at Trace. “Now, are you mocking me?” He paused. “No, no, you’re not. You really want me to sleep well.”

“For the rest of your life,” Trace said.

Two Tamas in Paradise: Episode 37, Maxwell's Hair

This is the thirty-seventh episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. There are fifty episodes. This is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series.  It may now be purchased on Amazon. It is available in paperback or Kindle digital format. 

Maxwell's Hair

The next several days, the crew and passengers engaged in various games. With limited resources, they made their own shuffleboard with modified rules for the modified deck space. They tossed knives, darts, and balls in a bucket. There were card games, checkers, and chess. The meals were times for lively discussions and laughter. 

The Gambier Islands lie another eighteen hours east. Sage called all the passengers together. They gathered in the salon.

“We are going to dock at Mangareva Island tomorrow afternoon. It’s one of the Gambiers.” Trace said. “If we don’t stop, we can be at Oeno Island in a day and a half.”

“What about rations? Calvin asked. 

“We have plenty,” Trace said. “After we let you off, we could make it as far back as Raro. As you know, it will be impossible for us to go there. But there’s at least another dozen islands where we can get rations and water. That’s not a worry for us.”

Maxwell glanced at everyone. That seemed unusual. Normally, he decided without looking at or consulting others. 

“What does everyone think?” Maxwell asked.

“Given the trouble we got into the last time,” Calvin said, “I’d rather skip the Gambier Islands and just go on to Oeno.”

The women agreed.

“Okay,” Trace said, “we’ll just sail on by.”

“Captain,” Maxwell said and looked around to see if anyone besides the passengers was in earshot.

“What’s up?” Trace said, leaning toward Maxwell.

Maxwell leaned forward and whispered loudly, “I’m not accusing anybody, but I had some expensive hair treatment in my room. I can’t find it. I know that I never took it out of my room, but it’s gone.”

“You have looked around the boat, in case you accidentally took it out of the room?” Trace asked.

“I’ve looked every place except the crews’ quarters, the galley, and pilothouse,” Maxwell said.

“I’ll tell you what,” Trace said. “This is serious, very serious. So I’ll let you check the crews’ quarters, the galley, and pilothouse.”

“I don’t know if I want to go that far or not,” Maxwell said. “I was kind of hoping you might say something to the crew, and it just might show up.”

Trace looked closely at Maxwell’s hair and asked. “You don’t like it like it is?”

“I can’t ever remember not having some sort of hair treatment,” Maxwell said. “It’s part of who I am.”

“Yeah,” Trace said, “I get where you’re coming from. We had this guy back home, Curly Caldwell. He was bald, but had a curly wig. He up and misplaced it or somebody took it. We were all sure that if somebody did take it, it was a stranger from out of town, because we never did see anybody else with it. Anyway, it gave Curly a whole new look—bald. Everybody started calling him Slick. And his wife took to it too. Maybe, just maybe, this all came about by fate. Have you asked the missus about it?”

“This is the way she met me,” Maxwell said. He turned and looked at Darlene.

Darlene forced a smile. He looked at Calvin and Wilma. Their eyes swiveled toward Darlene. He looked at Darlene. She wore a pathetic smile.

“Did you hide it?” Maxwell asked.

“No, no,” Darlene said. 

“But you don’t like it that way?” Maxwell asked forlornly.

“Sure,” Darlene said,” but out here it doesn’t belong; maybe in a nightclub.”

“Oh,” Maxwell paused and thought. “But which do you like?”

“You’ve never asked me that before,” Darlene said.

“I hate to say this in front of others,” Maxwell said, “but until now, I didn’t care what you thought.” He looked at the others. His eyes darted from one side to the other. “My image, though, it makes me look sharp and assured.” He paused and thought. “Or a shyster.”

“Well,” Trace said. “I’m going to catch forty winks before I go to pilothouse duty. Good night, all.”

Everyone said goodnight.

Two Tamas in Paradise; Puzzles, Episode 36

This is the thirty-sixth episode of the novel Two Tamas in Paradise. There are fifty episodes. This is the fourth novel in the Trace Troy South Pacific Adventure series.  

It may now be purchased on Amazon. It is available in paperback or Kindle digital format. 

Shortly past noon, the seas and winds abated enough for Trace to give the order to raise the sails two-thirds. An hour later, he gave the order to raise them all the way. And with that, came pleasant seas. 

Sage took the wheel, and Trace walked out on the foredeck, joining Maxwell at the railing.

Maxwell turned and smiled when noticing Trace next to him. “Good afternoon,” Maxwell said.

“It is, and same to you,” Trace said. “Hard to believe six hours ago the seas were churning like a washing machine.”

“There were a couple of times I thought we were going under,” Maxwell said. “I looked out the portal a couple of times, and I could swear we were under water.”

“It’s frightening when the water all around you hides the horizon,” Trace said. “I don’t mean to downplay the past sixteen hours, but I’ve seen worse of the Bering.”

“And you still sail,” Maxwell grinned. “Your head should be examined.”

“But here you are,” Trace said.

“Touché,” Maxwell said.

“It wasn’t meant that way,” Trace said. “Sorry, it came out that way, though.”

“I think you have purposely distanced yourself from us,” Maxwell said.

“Yeah,” Trace said. “And I told my crew as well. I have a responsibility to make sure tensions don’t arise between the crew members. If I toss the passengers in with that, it doubles my concern. I don’t want the crew and passengers striking up friendships, forming cliques, or taking sides on issues.”

“But you formed a competition,” Maxwell said.

“That’s a controlled situation,” Trace said. “It exaggerates cliques and divisions to absurdity. Believe me, I watch to make sure it doesn’t take on a serious tone.”

“It was, indeed, healthy,” Maxwell said. “And it sure as heck took away the boredom.”

“Is that what you're doing now?” Trace said, “Taking away the boredom?”

“You could say that,” Maxwell said. “When you really think about something, it’s like working on a puzzle; it is surprising how the puzzle comes together and how much time passes in doing so.”

“Puzzles are sometimes like a person's life,” Trace said. “It may appear in shambles until it is all put together. Sometimes it’s just that final piece.”

“You are reading my mind,” Maxwell said.

“I’ve spent some time at this railing a few times,” Trace said. “And so has my dad. Take Coyote, this is his first time at sea. He’s been out here a few times. But me, Dad, Sage, and Coyote, we’ve done this before—a different time, a different place. For us, it’s been on the range. We get off our horse and lean on a fence, and think. Just try to put things together.”

“So why did you decide on the sea?” Maxwell said.

Trace grinned. “Touché.”

“No, it wasn’t meant that way,” Maxwell said.

“A food question,” Trace said. “And believe me, I’ve thought about it. I’m not really sure, but I wanted to look at a different place to see if the puzzle came out the same way. So far, I’ve come up with the same conclusions.”

“And what are they?” Maxwell asked.

“It is difficult to put in words,” Trace said. “Especially,” he smiled, “since you’ve put me on the spot. However, here’s one thing: I’ve come across a few despicable people in the last few months. Some are in jail; it’s what they deserve. Yet, no matter what, there was always something good in them. I always thought, if not for a certain circumstance, I might be a completely different person. Or if just one decent act came their way, they might be completely different.”

“Hump,” Maxwell said, “in some circles that would make you a sucker.”

“I know,” Trace said, “but that doesn’t bother me because I think I know the difference in being a sucker, naive, incredulous, and savvy, discerning, compassionate, and so on.”

“That’s quite a puzzle,” Maxwell said.

“It’s one worth piecing together,” Trace said.

They watched the sea without a word. Gauls swirled and swooped. Waves dashed up the side of the boat. A whale was spotted a distance away. The clouds looked as if they were in a parade.

“Look behind you,” Trace said, “to the north.”

Maxwell turned around and looked. 

“What do you see?” Trace asked.

“Dark clouds,” Maxwell said, “the storm that just passed.”

“You came out here and made a choice to see the good sky, the calm seas, and the white clouds.”

“Meaning?” Maxwell asked.

“You tell me,” Trace said. He gripped Maxwell’s shoulder. “I’m going below. Enjoy.”

Trace walked away. Maxwell continued to watch the sea, the sky, the gulls, and the clouds.